Beautiful Morning [Script]

INT. NYC Apartment - Day

The apartment is dark, dingy, dusty. Empty beer cans litter the floor, furniture, and kitchen table. Red and blue Solo cups lay crumpled, disregarded on the floor. All the shades and shutters in the apartment are drawn tightly shut, but the edges of the windows emit and bright, neon, orange glow.

Faint breathing can be HEARD.

Boxes are lying on the floor, the guts of them spilled over the carpet. Family photos lay scattered, a picture of a boy giving a valedictorian speech lays on top. School papers graded with A's are visible in the boxes, athletic medals dangle from their sides.

An alarm in another room CHIMES and the blanket on the couch twitches. The breathing intensifies and a sigh is let loose.

VOICE

(under the blanket)

Shuuut uppp.

The alarm clock stops for a moment, but retorts, beginning again with the morning news.

ANCHOR

Exactly six months after scientists discovered Earth had broken

 free of its orbit and was drifting towards the Sun, the day has come when 

life shall end. By midnight tonight, the 

planet's atmosphere will be too hot to survive in.

The blanket sits up, sliding off, revealing Keith, early 20's, light brown hair, newly formed stubble on his chin, hair in dismay on the top of his head; greasy.

Getting up off the couch, Keith walks into the room emitting the sound. The radio shuts off.

KEITH O.S. (Cont'd)

Much better.

Walking over to one of the windows, he draws back the curtain. Light spills into the apartment, illuminating it like hell was pouring through the window.

KEITH (CONT'D)

And today's the day...

Int. Kitchen - Day

Keith stands over the sink, holding a bottle of multivitamins in his hand, staring at them.

KEITH

Ah fuck it, whats the point.

He pours the vitamins into the garbage disposal and walks towards the refrigerator.

Reaching inside, he pulls out a beer and CRACKS it open.

KEITH (CONT'D)

Today's gonna be a good day.

Taking a large gulp, he winces and it runs down his throat.

The phone begins to RING. Keith disregards it as it continues through its cycle and connects to voice mail.

SUSAN

(on the machine)

Hey honey,it's Mom. I haven't heard from you in a while. When I was praying before, you came up...I'd love it if you'd give me a call, maybe we can do dinner. I know it's not the best thing to say but the Lord is looking forward to meeting you..

Annoyed, Keith hits the erase button before Susan has a chance to finish her message. He picks up the phone and dials a number.

KEITH

Hey Mom.

Susan O.S.

Hey sweetie, how are you?

KEITH

About as good as one can be I guess.

SUSAN

Wonderful, how's the apartment? Still spotless I hope? And work? How's Anthony doing?

KEITH

I haven't been to work in three weeks.

SUSAN

Ah Keith, how come?

KEITH

Mom, we're fucking dieing today. Don't you get that? I don't matter, you don't matter, life is over. Everything we were is pointless now. How the fuck are you so calm?

SUSAN

I have the Lord on my side..

KEITH

Don't say that! You know how much I hate it. If he was on our side, why would this be happening!?

SUSAN

He works in mysterious ways...but look, I just want to have my last dinner with my son. See you at 4:15?

KEITH

Mom..I can't just pretend like nothing is happening like you..

SUSAN

It'd be great to see you one last time.

Frowning, Keith looks into the living room, focusing on a picture of his mother; frail with loneliness in her eyes.

KEITH (CONT'D)

You know what...ok..I'll come. We can send the evening together, do some talking. I'll see you tonight.

EXT. Street - Day

The street is barren of life. Parked cars are vandalized, windows of homes broken, garbage strewn along the pavement.

Keith's car windshield is half smashed in.

INT. CAR - Day

Keith turns on the radio. "It's a Beautiful Morning," by The Young Rascals comes on. The car pulls away from the curb.

KEITH

(in time with the song)

It's a beautiful morningggg

The sun is a massive presence in the sky, raining light onto the city as Keith makes his way through the empty streets.